The Letter
by EverAfterGirl
Summary: Remus Lupin gets his Hogwarts letter. TwoShot.
1. The Letter

**This is gonna be a short, Two-shot. I'm kinda Marauder obssessed right now (Especially Lupin).**

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The Letter

To say Mrs. Lupin was surprised would have been a massive understatement. Years later she'd wonder if she had actually gone into shock at the sight. Yet, the owl had arrived addressed to a single person: Remus Lupin.

Surely this must be some kind of mistake? She turned the letter over and promptly, dropped it. There, in red wax, lied the unmistakable Hogwarts seal. Mrs. Lupin reached out tentively, and found herself tracing the familiar sign. This was more than she--they--could have hoped for, what with his 'condition'.

"Remus," She called out softly.

She heard the TV click off in the other room, then silence.

"Yeah, mom?" He stood in the doorway.

Remus Lupin was no ordinary boy; that much was obvious just looking at him. Deep bags under his eyes resembled bruises, while his eyes themselves betrayed knowledge and hurt unusual for his age. It was the eyes that unnerved so many adults. Messy brown hair fell over a chronically tired face, and his skin appeared as if it had been stretched across his bones.

She motioned for her son to join her. He complied, and she noted the predatory way he moved. She knew he it was likely that he wasn't even aware of it. It was the only similarity to the creature caged inside.

"You have mail. _Owl _mail." She tried to smile as she handed it to him.

He looked at her with uncertainty. "This must be a mix-up! Some kid's letter got addressed wrong-"

"Open the letter, sweetheart." She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Reluctantly, he slit the top open, pulling out a small piece of parchment. His eyes scanned over it slowly, widening with each line. Finally, he cracked a grin. "Look!"

She took it from her sin and examined the elegant script.

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_I am the headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was recently informed that you expressed an eagerness to attend, as well as extraordinary wizarding power for one so young. It has also been brought to my attention that you feel you cannot attend due to your 'condition' (As I am told you refer to it as). I assure you, that is not the case. I believe that we shall be able to sort this out, if you're interested, that is. I shall await our meeting on the 2__nd__ of August at 7:00 p.m. in the Leaky Cauldron. Send owl if date or time is inconvenient. _

_-Albus Dumbledore_

Mrs. Lupin finished reading and peered over the letter at her son's hopeful face. She sighed internally, knowing full well how crushed he'd be if it didn't work out.

"Well?" He prodded, a spark of life in his usually dead eyes.

She started. "You can go and meet Professor Dumbledore, I suppose,"

"Yes!"

She held up a hand, silencing him. "I don't want you to get your hopes up too much, just in case this ends badly. Do we have a deal?"

Remus nodded solemnly.

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**So? How much did it suck?**


	2. The Headmaster

**Again, short. But I must admit, I'm proud of how it turned out. **

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**The Headmaster**

Remus entered the Leaky Cauldron a few moments early, choosing a table off to the side. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop in anticipation.

"Mr. Lupin, I presume?" A kind voice asked.

Remus looked up to see who had spoken, meeting a pair of brilliant blue eyes. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the man. Albus Dumbledore was an older wizard, maybe two decades older than his parents. He had a long beard that was beginning to grey and half moon spectacles perched on the end of his nose (And, Remus noted, they were a little askew). He was clothed in violet robes, and held out a weathered hand to Remus.

"Yeah," The werewolf confirmed, shaking his hand.

Dumbledore sat down across from him, eyes piercing the boy. The man looked away for a moment to inform the waitress that they wanted a butterbeer and a firewhiskey. Then, he returned his attention to Remus.

"Mr. Lupin, we feel that you would excel greatly at our establishment." The Headmaster began. "In fact, to be frank, you show more promise than half of our confirmed students."

"Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore took a swig of his firewhiskey. "The only thing we must discuss before we accept you is your lycanthropy."

Remus gave him a blank stare. "Lycan-what?"

The man smiled kindly. "It is the formal term for your condition. I, myself, prefer it to werewolf. It's not as harsh and people judge less."

"I like it."

"I'm delighted to hear it. Now, how many days do you need?"

The werewolf bit his lip. "Huh?"

"Each month," Dumbledore elaborated, blue eyes crinkling.

Remus looked down at his hands, and mumbled almost incoherently. "The day of and the day after, usually. Sometimes more if I cut myself up too badly."

The headmaster nodded in understanding. "Our nurse, Madame Pomfrey, should be able to heal up those wounds the day after, with your permission."

Remus nodded. "Then just the two days should be fine." He added and afterthought. "I can catch up on my work the day after."

Dumbledore nodded. "If you wish. We have a secure place you can transform each month, and the staff will be informed of your condition. Is there anything else I am forgetting?"

Remus thought for a moment, and then shook his head.

The headmaster smiled. "Well then, Mr. Lupin, expect an owl with your supply list sometime tomorrow. I look forward to seeing you later this year."

"You too, sir. Er...I mean, Headmaster." The werewolf beamed.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "I don't suppose you would be interested in looking for your wand today? After all, you came all this way."

Remus laughed. "I'd love to." He said eagerly.

The man took him through the back and began to tap the bricks in an order that Remus couldn't believe he remembed. The wall began to split open, slowly showing the bustling marketplace behind it. His eyes widened as he took in the wonders.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mr. Lupin."

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**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
